


Little Things

by Emma_Trevelyan



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Post-War, Shenko - Freeform, post-game fluff, super fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5184980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Trevelyan/pseuds/Emma_Trevelyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaidan remembers all the things he loves about Alexandra Shepard, and why they mean so much to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Things

If it hadn’t been for fraternization regulations, Kaidan would have delivered her first eulogy.

Instead of talking about the hero, Commander Shepard, the savior and soldier, he would have talked about the woman, Alexandra Shepard.

He would have talked about how she preferred to be called Alex by everyone except him, who either called her Allie or Alexandra, depending on the mood. He would have talked about how she loved music; she always had it on when she had a free moment. She loved to dance, even though she was bad at it. Her favorite color was pink, a secret she’d only told him once. She was calmed by physical contact and loved to snuggle, even platonically. She never learned to swim outside of emergency training in the military, so she was deathly afraid of deep water.

He’d talk about how he was horrified by the way she took her coffee—strong enough to stand a spoon in, but sweet enough he was pretty sure he was obligated to call it dessert.  He’d talk about how she loved to cook, and they would spend long, sleepless nights trying to make something edible out of military rations (they were never successful, but they had fun either way). She loved sitting on her bed with him and Ash when off-duty and watching vids.

He’d talk about how she hated the cold, and had about half a dozen blankets on her bed. He’d talk about this indestructible woman being terrified of spiders. He’d talk about how she cried after Feros and Noveria and especially Virmire; how she felt the loss of every innocent she couldn’t save. They’d clung to each other when Ashley died, crying together over their mutual guilt.

He would talk about all the little things he fell in love with, and now he’d have to learn to live without them.

~~~

On their fifth wedding anniversary, he mulled over these things once more.

She still drank awful dessert-mud coffee. She still loved music, and filled their home with it. She still loved to cook; especially now she could cook for her family. She still insisted on Kaidan dealing with every spider that she found (though she begged him to let it out in the garden and not squash it). She still loved to snuggle, and she still had way too many blankets and pillows on their bed.

But he thought of the way she’d changed.

She moved less sharply—a combination of old injuries and the luxury of idle domesticity. Motherhood had softened and filled out her curves. She kissed him deeply every morning when they woke and every night when they went to sleep. She’d even made a sort of peace with the Bay their Vancouver home was built on.

He also liked to see the things he’d never imagined, even in his fondest and most earnest dreams. Of all the horrible things in this world he’d seen (and even done or been part of) he couldn’t have expected the bottomless well of happiness that was his wife and children. He couldn’t imagine the joy on the day when his Shepard had first responded to someone saying, “Excuse me, Mrs. Alenko”. He’d never dared to hope how wonderful it would be to see her chasing their son and daughter across their yard, or being called Dad, or being the pillar of a family he’d built.

If he could go back and tell his younger self, just after Shepard had died, that it could be this wonderful—that his life could be what he’d always hoped for—he would. He would tell himself to hold onto the little things he loved about her, instead of trying to forget.


End file.
